


spin me round like your favorite record

by tangentiallly



Category: A Series of Unfortunate Events - Lemony Snicket
Genre: Dancing, Don’t copy to another site, F/F, Pre-Canon, Timestamp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-06
Updated: 2019-12-06
Packaged: 2021-02-18 08:19:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21691312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tangentiallly/pseuds/tangentiallly
Summary: Kit watches Beatrice dance in the kitchen.
Relationships: Beatrice Baudelaire/Kit Snicket
Kudos: 7





	spin me round like your favorite record

**Author's Note:**

> disclaimer: I don't own ASOUE

When Kit walked out of the study in their apartment that day after finishing a long mystery novel, she found that Beatrice was dancing in the kitchen.

Kit had seen Beatrice dance before, of course. Everyone in their friend group had, along with many others who lived in The City who visited the theater regularly. Kit had seen her waltzed with Lemony, and also several of Monty’s snakes at R’s masked ball. The snakes loved Beatrice, almost as much as they loved Monty. Beatrice always had a way with the animals. Kit had seen Beatrice dance with Esme Squalor on the stage, too, from rehearsals to formal performances, a dance that’s almost a competition - perhaps it was. But this, right now, this was different, Kit thought.

This was _different._

Kit watched as Beatrice, while waiting for the soup on the stove to be ready, dance to the jazz tunes flowing out from the old radio. Unlike when she was on stage and the music was perfectly coordinated, the tunes playing currently was occasionally interrupted with static noises, and there was the faint sound of raindrops in the background, too. Beatrice was wearing a pair of wool socks as she swayed to the tunes and spinned herself on the kitchen floor - or perhaps, “a pair” was not the most accurate the description to use, as the socks were visibly mismatched. One sock was black, but with white linings of shapes of bats on it, and the other sock was pinstriped, with lines of the colors of pink, purple, and blue.

Beatrice did a skip towards the left, and then a spin, while jumping into the air bit mid-spin, and that made her notice Kit standing by the kitchen entrance, looking almost mesmerized. For a moment, Beatrice’s cheeks seemed to redden slightly, but Kit thought she probably imagined it. Or it was just the lighting of the kitchen playing some kind of tricks on her eyes, perhaps. Because this was _Beatrice_ , after all. _Beatrice Baudelaire_. Beatrice who danced on stage, Beatrice who was the star of a masked ball (admittedly, her costumes might’ve played a part in that too), Beatrice who was capable of bold, daring movements, yet knew how to be calculated and precise at the same time. Beatrice, who danced perfectly. She had no reason to blush at being seen dancing in a kitchen while cooking soup. She still danced amazingly, under such informal circumstances,, although it was perhaps more casual and more experimental and more laid-back all at the same time. There was some sort of intimacy, some kind of unprecedented closeness, seeing Beatrice dance like this, with mismatched wool socks that still managed to look cute on her. (Things usually looked cute on Beatrice, when they weren’t busy looking goth on her. Although Kit thought R had a point that one time she pointed out that those weren’t mutually exclusive.)

Beatrice smiled at Kit, a smile soft and tentative and utterly adorable. And then she started moving towards Kit, skipping the steps even for this short distance. She stopped in front of Kit, just inches away from her, and raised her arm to her just below her shoulders, in parallel with their bodies, and asked, “Miss Snicket, would you like to dance?”

Kit swallowed, and then, finding her voice, she replied, “That would be my pleasure, Miss Baudelaire.”

Beatrice’s smile was brighter than the sun, a contrast with the sounds of raindrops hitting the windows outside, and yet the two seemed to exist together perfectly, in perfect balance with each other.

Kit placed a hand on Beatrice’s arm, and let Beatrice led her into the kitchen.

They danced.

**Author's Note:**

> [come say hi on tumblr](https://beatricebidelaire.tumblr.com)


End file.
